Rumbelle AU Storybrooke Drabbles
by pestofanfic
Summary: A multitude of what started as drabbles in my notebook and sort of turned into a regular work along the way. All of the pieces are centered around a friendship between Mr. Gold and Belle in Storybrooke starting when she's engaged to Gaston and then the eventual relationship we all know and some love. Warning: Some major eye-roll-worthy cheese and the usual cliches at points.
1. Home Tour

"Well this is quite the view," she murmured while looking out to the foggy ocean. "I can understand why you live here now."

"The view's the only reason I can stand the stairs," he replied as he joined her at the window with the two drinks. He handed her the wine and kept the scotch for himself.

"Why thank you." With glass in hand she walked over to the globe to the left of the window. "Another precious heirloom from the grand old Windsor handed down from Mary to Elizabeth?"

He chuckled, "Just a plain old globe Belle."

She closed her eyes and spun it, "I wouldn't say plain old. It's beautiful." She stopped it and placed a finger on- "Scotland. What a coincidence. Your turn."

He stepped beside her and followed her example, "If I land on Australia…" He opened his eyes once the globe stopped spinning. "Ahh the Atlantic Ocean, although I hear it's quite wet 365 days a year."

She rolled her eyes, "Try again."

"Italy."

"Why must you get the city of pasta while I get the cold, dreary marshland?" she teased.

"I'll have you know Scotland is a beautiful land of mystery and—."

"I'm joking! My, you sound like a tour guide," she sipped her drink and turned to the small bookcase in the living room. "You'll have to accompany me when I go so I don't get swindled."

He opened his mouth to mention her fiancé's probable feelings on this, but thought better of it and watched her examine the small supply of titles.

"Before you accuse me of having a poorly supplied library, I'll have you know these aren't all of them."

She sighed and turned around, "Good. I was about to be extremely judgmental of the house to library ratio."

He held out his hand, "Come along and we'll finish the tour. I saved it for last."

If she hesitated to take his hand, he didn't notice, but he did notice she was sans engagement ring. Again.

"Belle you seem to have misplaced your ring again," he teased with what he hoped sounded like a light-hearted and not elated tone.

A grimace crossed her features, "It's just so gaudy and, it's terrible to say, but if I'm not around him or people who are to going to question why I'm not wearing it… I'm not going to wear it. Does that make me a terrible person?"

"No, it doesn't," he murmured. _It just means your fiancé is an idiot who doesn't even know what his future wife likes in jewelry, _he wanted to add.

"I mean, I know it's a symbol of us being together, but I feel like he does a good enough job letting others know I'm 'his and off-limits,' that I don't even need the horrible ring." She rolled her eyes again. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be venting, but I really hate that damn ring and that he treats me like one of his prized deer, ready for a wall mounting."

He didn't know what lines he'd be crossing with the multitude of replies on his tongue, so he just opened the door they'd arrived at. He watched her expression turn from irritated to awed. She walked away from him and turned in a circle soaking up the view.

"How did you even fit all of these in here? How big is this room?"

He chuckled and left her to walk around the room several more times. These were the bittersweet moments he equally loved and hated. They always left a melancholy feeling behind when she was gone, but he decided to ignore that for the time being and instead enjoy her while he could.


	2. Accents and Lightbulbs

"Come in, the door's unlocked!" she called from the kitchen when he knocked.

"That doesn't seem very safe for this neighborhood," he murmured while he walked down the hall to her kitchen.

"I heard that, you rude man! It's Storybrooke, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Don't they always say that in that crappy teen vampire show you watch? Learn from the fictional story and don't say that!" he set down the drinks he was carrying and went to the cabinet to get glasses.

She smiled as he got progressively got comfortable in her home and laughed, "I can't believe you even remember that. We watched it _one _time because my DVR was broken. One time!"

"Worst 43 minutes of my life. Worse than a divorce hearing with Milah," he poured the cider and she brought the pasta and salad to the table.

"I'll agree, it's a terrible show, but I only watch it for one of the actors who has a great ac-." She stopped herself, blushed, and turned around quickly to get the bread.

His eyebrows raised, "Why Ms. French, I didn't believe you were so vulgar. You watch a show produced for a teen audience because one of the actors has a great ass? I had such a high opinion of you, but now…" he scoffed.

She blushed even more and took off her apron, "No! I didn't finish."

"Mhm sure, I cannot unsee you as a hormonal teenage girl now."

"Accent! He has a great accent. Happy?" she exclaimed and sat down with a huff.

"Oh you like his accent aye?" He asked with a smirk while laying his on thick.

She leaned across and smacked him with her apron, "He's English not Scottish you self-satisfied ass."

"Eck a bunch of glaikit fearties," he rolled his eyes.

"At least I can understand them when they're insulting a person. You just sound like you're spouting nonsense, which you usually are."

"How about we agree to disagree when it comes to our opinions on the English, lass?" He held up his glass.

She held up hers, "Agreed. Cheers."

They clinked glasses and ate the meal grinning the entire time. Again, he noticed, sans ring.

* * *

"Of course I need to change the light bulb. I'm not going to just leave it dark when I'm expecting company," she grumbled at the lazy Gold sprawled on her couch.

"I'm just saying let me or maybe your fiancé change it. You're clumsy; you'll end up breaking your neck."

She left the room to go get a light bulb, her dress flouncing and bare feet padding across the hardwood floor, "I don't need a man to change a light bulb. I can do it myself."

He rolled his eyes and stood up, "At least let me spot you, you stubborn woman."

"I heard that you rude man," she replied when she came back to the kitchen. "Fine, you may spot me."

He cringed as she climbed atop the table and switched out the light bulbs.

"There, easy," she said but then misjudged the step down to the chair and would have fallen to the floor had Gold not caught her.

He raised his eyebrows at her, "Don't need a—?"

She glared, "Shut up."


	3. Lunches, a Ring, and Caramel Things

It was when she came into the shop to bring him lunch that she was distracted by the jewelry case. He heard the bell and her heels and expected her to come right back, but was surprised when the clicking stopped after a few steps. He quit detailing an ornate mirror and walked out to the front counter where she stood looking down at the counter.

"Belle? Something caught your eye?" he asked teasingly.

She looked up with tears in her eyes, "I'm about to marry someone who doesn't even know anything about me."

She turned away before he could say another word and ran out of the store, leaving their lunch and a confused Gold behind. He glanced at the jewelry to see what had set her off and spotted a new piece he had put in two days prior. A simple silver ring with a blue sapphire, it all clicked.

He took it out, noting bitter sweetly as always, that Belle still hadn't been wearing her ring.

The next day when she came in he was already at the front counter.

"Morning Belle," he greeted her kindly.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," she smiled. "Pre-wedding jitters I suppose."

She opened up the bag she'd been carrying and spread out the lunch. Her ring was shining brightly on her finger.

He looked up at her and smiled, "Happens to the best of us. You look happier today."

"Really?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied with a nod.

"Good. I'm just," she sighed and her smile fell for a moment, "really trying…"

They ate their lunch in silence and he ignored it when she glanced in the case for the ring no longer there, and didn't see the slight decline in her demeanor.

* * *

"Am I going to die if I attempt to eat these hard candies?" she asked from the other end of his couch.

"No, I just bought them!" he replied with an offended tone while he changed the record and sat back down beside her.

She squinted her eyes at him, "You seem like the guy who would have hard candy sitting in a jar for 60 years and still give it out to children at Halloween."

He chuckled, "I would do that and you are somewhat like a child with a sugar rush," he dodged her badly aimed kick, "but I haven't lived for 60 years."

"Oh okay for 40 or whatever. I still don't trust these or you." She picked one out of the bowl and inspected it thoroughly through the wrapper.

"36 thank you," he scoffed.

"Psh, 36 and walking with a cane you old man," she teased while unwrapping the caramel. "Look! It won't even unwrap!"

"That's because it's caramel and sticky and you're inept at doing simple tasks!" he held out his hand.

She glared at him and attempted to get the paper off once more before handing it to him in defeat. His delicate fingers, graced with patience from working with countless antiques, unfurled the paper from the candy easily.

She groaned, "Of course."

He smirked.

"Smug bastard," she muttered and stuck her tongue out.

He placed the caramel on her tongue and laughed at her surprised expression.

"I bet you can't catch one in your mouth if I toss it up in the air," she challenged proudly.

He raised his eyebrows, "You doubt me?"

"I do!" she exclaimed and leaned backwards to grab another one from the side table. "Alright if you get this…"

"You'll have to admit that you hate listening to Granny's stories about her 'wild youth' just as much as I do, but you're too polite to say so."

"But I love listening to Granny's _completely_ believable stories about rum-running as a flapper," she replied innocently.

He laughed, "Mhm… but fine that's not a good enough admission. Hmm… you'll have to owe me a favor."

She contemplated her decision for a moment, "Deal."

"Alright, let's see if you can open this one," he teased.

She stuck her tongue out again, the half-dissolved caramel at the tip. She unfurled the second one with less finesse, but more excitement than he did, forcing him to chuckle.

"Alright 1, 2, 3…" she tossed it short and purposefully terrible, forcing him to dive for it. He landed in her lap, but there was a thump on the floor next to the couch. "Ha! You missed it!" she grinned happily and looked down at the floor and pushed aside his hand, but there was no caramel. "Wait, where is it? I heard it hit the floor!"

He wiggled his hand next to hers and she noticed the chunky ring he always wore. She sat back up and he gave her a wicked grin and stuck out his tongue, the candy on the tip.

Her smile faded, "How did you even…?"

"You seem to owe me a favor now Ms. French," he said looking up at her triumphantly.

"Whatever," she swatted at his chest with a roll of her eyes and grumbled something about being lucky before she grabbed another caramel.

She unfurled the candy and tossed it up, attempting to catch it, but instead letting it land on her nose. It rolled down onto his face and he laughed again. He made an internal note, as he continued to gaze up at her trying to catch caramels, to always have a vast supply of fresh ones in the house.

* * *

**The caramel scene is my favorite to this day since I wrote it, which is self-satisfied and prideful, but imaging this completely AU Gold and Belle scene makes me happy. I wanted to add a comment where she says, "You floundered like a codfish!" but even that was far too cheesy for me. The next chapter we get a tad bit more in depth to the actually storyline and it's a little less drabble-esque. **

**Seriously thanks to terra-angle, LynRward, and theatre fan for being the first to even acknowledge this story so quickly after it was published and in a way that I could see so I hope these next few chapters don't turn you away! You guys are the coolest.**


	4. Lunch II

The library was basically empty when it was his turn to bring lunch from Granny's, but he was too annoyed to notice. He didn't make it a habit of going to Granny's unless Belle specifically wanted it. There were too many unhappy tenants from his father's time as landlord of Storybrooke and he hadn't changed much of his father's ways after he ended up with all of his assets. Of course Granny's was also a viper's nest of gossipmongers. The latter was what had affected his current emotional state before his entrance to the library.

When he walked into the diner it immediately fell silent, per usual, but once the idle chatter picked up again as he waited for their order he had the misfortune of overhearing Ruby's conversation with a young August Booth.

"I don't even get how she spends so much time with him when she could be spending more time with Gaston. She's engaged to one of the most handsome men in Storybrooke and instead willingly spends time with the rudest! I mean did I even tell you about the way he picked up the rent from Granny last week?"

As August and Ruby and probably countless other citizens gossiped about his and Belle's relationship, and himself in general, he thought about how they were all correct. He had been the town shut in when he came back from university to care for his ailing father and once he'd passed away, he'd inherited the hard exterior his father had always exhibited to the world. To everyone in the town he was just the landlord they all loathed and feared.

Fear. A word greatly associated with Gold and yet, as he gave the money to Granny—leaving far too generous a tip—he remembered how Belle had never feared him. From that first day she started renting the apartment above the library from him, to the day she came to the pawn shop with flowers from her father's shop on the anniversary of his father's death. How she knew, he'd never asked, nor would he ever. Instead, he'd lowered her rent two months later and been pleasantly surprised when she brought him baked goods to thank him for the generous price reduction and stopped to talk about the incredibly old edition of Shakespeare's sonnets she spied on her way out. An edition that was currently in his workroom at home awaiting obnoxious gift wrap to be her wedding present.

Their friendship forged over baked goods, lunches, discussions of literature, sardonic humor, and a multitude of teasing comments about her clumsiness and his cane, all of that couldn't keep the anger, doubt, and disgust from corroding his mind during his brief walk to the library. Belle did deserve to spend more time with her fiancé. He shuddered while thinking about the somewhat brutish, but handsome barman who'd kept her attention for two years. He'd always hoped that her doubts and misgivings would give way to an end of the relationship, but when her father had proclaimed his joy when she mentioned Gaston asking for her hand, Gold knew she hadn't had the heart to turn him down.

It was with all of those poisonous thoughts that he walked briskly into the library and went to Belle's office to just drop her meal off with some excuse about a couple of priceless items to be delivered or a troublesome tenant. When he knocked on the door and received no answer he searched until he found her in the kid's section talking to Emma's son, Henry, and that soothed his irritation a bit. The smile she reserved, unwittingly, for her time with children never failed to make him a little more light-hearted. She turned and smiled at him before she left Henry to his own devices.

"I see that bringing me lunch has you agitated," she stated as she took the bag from him and headed back towards her office.

"No, no," he shook his head. "I just won't be able to stay because I got some new pieces that need some special attention as soon as…"

She raised her eyebrows and he knew his lie was weak.

"Oh really? You sure it's not the terrible Archie Hooper giving you trouble with his rent? Or maybe, no, it couldn't be people gossiping at Granny's?" She took out a fry and took a bite in faux contemplation. "That sounds too ridiculous of an idea though. Gossiping citizens bothering the terrible Mr. Gold?"

He took the cue and sat down at the table. She slid his box across to him.

She took a sip of her iced tea, "Who was it this time? Ruby? Sidney? Or was it truly Archie? I'm sure he gossips all the time with his patients!"

"It doesn't even matter," he grimaced and rolled his eyes.

"Okay 13-year-old Bobby. Let me know when the 36-year-old Robert makes an appearance so I can have a decent conversation."

He tossed a fry at her, "It's everyone in this damn town. Whenever they run out of fodder they always turn back to how I'm 'manipulating you' or 'paying you' or 'holding you against your will and keeping you from your fiancé' and I'm fed up and tired of it."

"Tired of the gossip or tired of me being engaged?" she asked quietly.

He jerked his head up, "What?"

"You heard me correctly, the gossip or my engagement?"

"The gossip, obviously," he stuttered while adding the qualifier. He glanced down to see her ring was gone again.

She sighed, "Well you're going to have to deal with a fresh batch because the wedding's off."

"Since when?"

"Last night. He tried to tell me I wasn't to spend any more time with you, Emma or Ruby which is ballistic because yes you and Emma hate him, but Ruby can't stop fawning over the wedding." She tossed another fry into her mouth. "As if that wasn't a controlling warning sign, he went through my books in my living room and told me which ones I had to throw out so that our children wouldn't see them. Mind you _To Kill a Mockingbird_ and other classics were included, which is worrisome on a whole different level. Anyway when I asked him when the discussion of kids was ever going to be brought up he replied that we'd 'obviously be conceiving during the honeymoon or even before the wedding' as if my choice in the matter or a discussion on the subject wasn't even allowed. It went extremely downhill from there. I might have broken a teacup on his head, when the ring didn't knock any sense into him."

They were silent for a moment.

"It's properly and truly over? You're not going to take him back in two weeks' time when he comes crawling back to you?" Gold asked.

"Honestly, if the teacup didn't get through to him, there will probably be a pounding on my door tonight. But no, I feel so much better than I have in months and I don't want that to go away."

He smiled, "Good for you."

"But I may need some company and a place to stay tonight if he does come around. He's only scared of two people and Emma's kind of occupied with Jefferson tonight. Would you mind?"

"Not at all."

"Thank you."

He wanted to kiss her right then and there, but knew it was definitely not the right time and a part in her wanted him to kiss her as well and didn't care that it wasn't the right time.

* * *

**Oh what a fantastic cliche, extra cheddar cheese sentence to end the chapter. Alright a few things 1.) I love Ruby and I actually hate when people just use her as the gossipy waitress who sleeps around and flirts with all the men and has no other personality so I swear I won't do that. She's just a gossip and hates Gold now. 2.) Yes I chose Robert as his name. Shoot me. 3.) I swear I need to just ship Emma with independence, but I didn't and I chose Jefferson. I'm going with a more season one vibe, if Belle had been in season one Storybrooke, and so it was between Jefferson and Graham. but thinking about Graham makes me sad. 4.) That's actually all I have typed up for now so we'll see when the next update happens. Sorry if you're getting emails at 3 in the morning for every update. **

**Oh also, wow this is a LONG note SORRY, Gold does not live in the pink house we all know and love. It's more of my own weird little place that I haven't entirely created in my mind besides being huge and having an ocean view. But since I've got your attention everyone should join the Gold's Kitchen fandom because that kitchen needs more love than a quick flash during an argument about using magic. **


	5. A Change in the Relationship

He had just checked the guest bedroom for the fourth time when he heard her come in the front door.

"Rob where are you? I've got bags that need carrying because Vampire Diaries is on in two minutes!" She yelled and he heard a thud as she dropped them in the foyer. "Actually scratch that, I'll get the bags later."

He made his way downstairs and followed her shoes to find her barefoot and curled up on the couch with a bag of banana chips. She patted the space next to her.

"Oh no, I am not watching this again," he objected. "I'm going to make some dinner."

She shook her head, "No! You have to watch it with me! I'll let you make fun of everything and everyone except Joseph Morgan!"

"I take it he's the English lad?" he groaned when she pulled him down."

"Mhm, now quiet for the opening," she ordered with a finger to his lips.

He took a couple of chips and threw one at her before eating the second. He stayed quiet until the first commercial when he complained again about the concept and the fact that it was garnered towards teenagers.

"I mean come on," he groaned, "every time they pull out their cell phones it's like a 30-second commercial explaining everything the phone can do! And don't even get me started on the story itself."

She smiled, "Go on, you have free complaint range."

He stood up, "It's not even fun when you allow me to complain…" he muttered. "I'm ordering takeout. What would you like?"

"Kung pao chicken and potstickers!" she called as he went into the kitchen for a menu.

"Sizzling rice soup as well?" he called back.

"Yes please!"

He called in the order and thought about sneaking off to his office, but heard an English accent and knew he had to break Belle's stipulation. "Did he just rip someone's heart out? This is who you find attractive Belle? I'm worried about the next guy you'll pick you be in a relationship with."

"You're not allowed to talk about him Rob! One rule! I had one rule!" she exclaimed without looking away from the TV.

"I'll be sure to stage an intervention when the time comes _sweetheart. _Or is it _love_ this episode?" He laughed and ducked under the oncoming pillow.

"Go get the food!" She groaned.

He flopped down smugly, "They're delivering, _love_." He wrapped his arms around her blocking the view.

"Go get it anyway and get off me," she laughed. She successfully pushed his left arm from around her face, but didn't bother with the right one that held her close.

"I still don't understand your attraction to him. I get that you adore accents, but he _kills _people, with absolutely _no _remorse."

She looked away to glare at him, "It's just a show."

"Yes, that's poisoning teenage girls' minds. 'Oh he has an accent? Stay with him even though he's a terrible person!'"

Belle turned back to him to retort, but stopped when a pounding at the door made them turn their heads.

"That's definitely not Tom with the takeout. I thought Gaston would be too afraid to come here," she said with a faint tremor in her voice.

"He's probably drunk," he murmured while standing up.

She grabbed his hand, "What are you going to do Robert?"

"Get him off of my porch. I want you to go upstairs to the library or the guest bedroom and wait. I'll deal with Gaston." He pulled her up and led her up the stairs.

While he ushered her up the stairs Gaston started yelling at the door, "Belle I know you're in there! I don't care if you're shagging the old man, but you are not breaking off this—"

Gold opened the door before he could finish. "Get off my porch," he growled.

"Where's Belle?"

"Not anywhere you're going to get to her." His grip tightened on his cane and Gaston took a step forward. "Leave. Now."

"Bring it on. We'll see who's worry, I mean worthy." He stepped forward to attempt to lean on the door.

Gold rolled his eyes and lashed his cane out at Gaston's shins, forcing him to drop with a cry. Then a quick hit to the head knocked him out cold.

He closed the door, located his cell phone, and dialed the number for the sheriff. "Hello Sheriff Swan, I've got an unconscious Le Reux on my front porch that I'd like arrested for trespassing. Oh, I'm sure you'll be able to cuff him easily if you come within the hour. Thank you."

His head shot up when a quiet knock sounded. He opened it to find a frightened Tom glancing between Gold and Gaston. Gold handed him a $100 bill, "Speak of this to no one or I'll have your head."

Tom nodded, hurriedly handed Gold the food, and scampered back to his car.

He placed the food in the kitchen, locked the door, and then headed up to the library. Belle wasn't there so he checked the guest bedroom and found she wasn't there either. "Belle! Where are you?"

"In here," her voice replied from his bedroom. He stood in the door frame and gave her a quizzical look as she sat cross-legged on his bed. "I didn't want to hear what you did or said to him."

"It was quick. Swan's on her way. The food's downstairs." He sat next to her, "Are you okay?"

She nodded, "More annoyed than frightened."

"Of course," he chuckled.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, "Thank you Robert."

"No problem Belle," he set his chin on her head. "Hungry?"

"Not now…Maybe after Emma gets here."

He nodded his head still against hers, "Alright." The doorbell rang. "Speak of the devil. I'll be right back."

He walked downstairs and opened the door to see Emma Swan alone on the porch with an exasperated look on her face.

"What happened Gold?"

"Well good evening to you as well Sheriff Swan. How has your evening with Mr. Jefferson Jefferson been?" he replied and leaned on his cane.

"Cut the crap. My evening's been ruined because now I've got an unconscious man in the back of my car, with a welt on the side of his head that looks vaguely like it could have come from a cane. Care to explain?"

"Well Mr. Le Reux came here intoxicated, yelling about wanting his ex-fiancé, and in turn threatened me when I told him she was not here. He proceeded to attempt to make his way into my home so I was forced to take action and defend myself," he replied as innocently as possible.

Emma took a deep breath and rolled her eyes while shaking her head, "Is Belle here now?"

Gold hesitated, but was saved from lying when Belle answered from the top of the stairs. "I'm here. Everything he said is true," she replied while coming down.

Emma glanced between them, one of whom had added an old Harvard law sweater to her outfit. She sighed again. "Would you like to press charges?"

"A restraining order will do just fine," Belle replied politely.

"Alright, I'll be back in the morning after I hear Gaston's side after a night locked up." She walked back to her car and drove off.

"You couldn't have waited until after the sheriff was gone to add to your outfit?" Gold muttered while closing the door.

"It's cold," she shrugged.

"You have a sweater," he grumbled and walked into the kitchen to pull the food out.

She helped him and grabbed some glasses for water. "This one is comfier. I didn't realize you were one to have school spirit."

"I didn't. It was rainy one day and I lost my coat. That's beside the point." He looked her in the eye. "There's already enough talk. Why would you add to the fodder so soon after your dis-engagement?"

"It was just Emma! Who's she going to tell? Jefferson? Mary-Margaret and David? She's not a gossip. It's just a sweater Rob!" She huffed and pulled it off, slinging it against the chair. "There? Happy?"

"Not exactly," he muttered.

She threw her hands up, "I can't win with you, you insufferable man! What do you want from me?"

"I think the proper question is what do you want from me? What are we even doing Belle? What is this between us?"

She looked away for a second and fiddled with the glasses in front of her, "I'm not sure anymore. You're my best friend and I care too much about you. For you! I don't even understand."

"Belle I care about you a lot," he swallowed and closed his eyes briefly. "I just don't want you to get hurt."

She smiled and looked up at him, "I wouldn't get hurt with you. That's one thing I understand."

"That's not true. I can't protect you from everything. I just…Belle…" He leaned his head onto his forearm on the cabinet above him. "This town is poison. I'm poison."

She turned his head to face her and his arm dropped, "No you're not. Robert you are not poison." She leaned toward him and it's unexpected, but clearly not unexpected enough since he leaned to meet her lips, and slowly but surely after their lips met he turned to face and bring her closer. And by some miracle he's able to move his hands and her hair is so soft and she matched his movements and pulled him even closer which makes him chuckle.

"Well that was unexpected…" he murmured against her lips when they finally pulled apart to rest their foreheads against each other.

"Was it?" she asked incredulously.

He shook his head, "Only somewhat."

"Smug bastar—" she started before he silenced her with another kiss.

"You insult me too much," he murmured against the side of her mouth.

She laughed, "I'm sorry. It's just the truth. You are incredibly smug, especially right now."

"'Especially right now?' Well I've got a good reason to be smug." He kissed her nose.

"You do," she agreed. "And the food's here so I have a reason to be pretty happy too."

His mouth dropped open as she stepped away to make a plate. He held his hand to his heart affronted, "That hurts Belle."

"I'm only teasing," she replied and kissed his nose. "I apologize."

"Oh you'll be sorry when we don't finish Vampire Diaries," he threatened.

She watched him make his plate quietly and then replied with a mischievous smile, "Oh, I don't think I will."

Then as she walked off with a smug grin, his hand faltered and dropped the spoon he was using. He wasn't sure where there relationship was heading, but he liked the way it was looking.

* * *

**I'm a horrible person I know. It's been months. Plural. Months. If you're still following this cheers to you. I'm not even going to promise you anything though. You'd think after two years I'd get used to a college load of homework and attempting to mix it with theatre and work, but nah I haven't. But you don't care about that you care about Rumbelle! So I do have the next part all written out on paper, but that's not a promise that it will be typed. **

**I do have a different AU typed up in bits and pieces so look out for that unless you're just totally interested in this then I will make this promise that I won't give up on this story until I give up on OUAT and/ or Rumbelle. **


	6. Gold Digging and Rose-Tinted Glasses

The gossip and general town fodder increased tenfold when Gaston was released the next day. Instead of Gold just being considered a terrible future-home-wrecking beast, Belle was cast in a negative light as well. Many people considered her a "teasing tramp" who had simply strung Gaston along. Others believed the latter along with adding she was only with Gold for his money.

Of course neither of them knew of any of this "breaking news." Emma had come by and been nothing but professional while Belle signed paperwork, and once she left they spent the next three days wrapped in a bubble of private bliss. They ran into a rude awakening when Belle got ready to leave and found her car spray-painted "GOLD Digger" in what looked like the same red paint that had been on Mary-Margaret's car just a few months prior. She took a breath and walked back inside to get cleaning supplies, hoping that Robert wouldn't wake up, but it was all for naught.

He walked outside just as she was getting the last of it off and dropped his morning tea. He didn't bother to acknowledge the sopping mess at his feet when he spat out, "What the hell did they write and why didn't you wake me up?"

She scrubbed the last "r" off and sighed, "Oh something they, no doubt, thought was incredibly witty and clever. And I didn't wake you up for this very reason." She walked over and crouched down to pick up the pieces of the white and blue cup. "Well that's a good cup wasted. I was kind of fond of this one."

She walked back inside and he followed her in, closing the door behind him, "Forget the cup Belle! What was painted on your car?"

After tossing the pieces in the trash she turned to him and smirked, "'Gold digger' with an emphasis on the 'gold.' Honestly, I'd have been more impressed if they'd done it with gold paint too. Might have even left it on my car." She chuckled, but stopped when he kept up his scowl. "Oh come on! Don't be angry!"

"Why shouldn't I be?" he exclaimed with dark thoughts of raising hell in Granny's gossip-hole. "It hasn't even been a week and you've already got graffiti on your car. Mary-Margaret and David had a month at least."

Belle smiled and cupped his face with her hand, "Robert calm down, I cannot even begin to fathom why you let the town affect you like this. It's gossip."

"But it's not," he growled and abruptly turned away from her.

"Oh so you think I'm a gold-digger?" she replied to his back. "The past half a year and a ruined relationship have all been a plot for your money?"

He rolled his eyes and faced her raised eyebrows, "Of course not, but I am a relationship wrecker and the town hermit who took you away from your knight in shining armor."

"Now you're just being an idiot," she chided. "Really? My knight in shining armor? People can believe what they want, but _you_ need to listen to me when I say I did not end my relationship with that asshat because of my feelings for you."

"Fine…" he grumbled midst a bunch of other non-audible things.

Belle kissed his temple, "Alright, you can keep grumbling, but I'm going home. So you need to get dressed and go to work and NOT go stamping into Granny's to make a scene about how terrible and fearsome you are. We should have dinner later tonight and maybe go away for the weekend?"

He groaned, "God Belle, can we not give the rumor mill more fuel?"

"I thought we had established a mutual town gossip ignorance just 30 seconds ago?" she turned to walk out the door again.

"Okay, okay," he consented and pulled her into his arms. "But you'll have to let me borrow those rose-tinted glasses of yours."

"Only if I get to keep your sweater," she kissed his nose.

He kissed her lips, "We have a deal dearie."

"Brilliant! I'll be back here around 6:30ish. Close your dusty old pawnshop early and stay away from Granny's?"

"Will do," he replied with a mock salute.

She kissed him chastely again and flitted out the door. He leaned on the door frame as he watched her drive down the street.

* * *

He awoke from a fantastic nap in their tiny cottage's garden when something was chucked at him. He looked down at the object in his lap and laughed. "You actually bought rose-tinted glasses."

Belle came out from behind a vine-covered corner of the small yard, "Of course. I couldn't just steal your sweatshirt. A deal's a deal."

"That it is," he replied while putting the glasses on with a flourish. "Well what do you think?"

"Much better than your hippie ones," she smiled, sat down on his chair's arm, and wrapped an arm around him.

He titled his head down and looked at her over the glasses, "I take a lot of offense to that. I love those glasses."

"Aren't you supposed to be positive when you're viewing the world with rose tinted glasses?" she teased.

He pulled her down into his lap, "Who says anything in that statement wasn't positive? You're the one being negative about my accessories."

She placed a kiss on his neck, "Alright, alright. I'm sorry for mocking your sunglasses."

"I'll accept it if you cash in that favor you owe me tonight."

She tapped a finger to her chin, "Always making deals aren't you? How would it be cashed in?"

"Oh," he smirked. "You'll see."

* * *

**Short and sweet. And entirely out of character for both of them. Ending on yet another cliche that most likely won't lead anywhere that you have in mind. I'm sorry. I hate when people do that too, but feel free to put your own spin on how that favor would be cashed in. I'd be flattered. **

**On another note, I have a love-hate relationship with those Valentine's Day glasses. I do appreciate the one's Robert Carlyle recently wore on set with Emilie de Ravin though. **


	7. Post-Getaway Happiness

The weekend getaway bliss and their newfound relationship had left Belle and Robert quite refreshed. The seaside cottage four hours down the coastline was the perfect home away from home. Exploring the small seaside town had been an adventure in itself, along with sailing along the shore, and partaking in midday picnics and late night fireside chats within the allotted three days and two nights. But they both had jobs to return to and Belle had a number of concerned messages on her phone. With a toss of her phone, she decided to deal with father and friend alike when she was done at the library on Monday. They got back into town late on Sunday evening and it was odd parting with him, after spending day and night with him for so long, but she forced herself to leave with a kiss and a push after he grumbled about his neighborhood being safer.

"You own the apartment. Do something about it," she teased before closing the door.

Her bedroom beckoned as her feet dragged while turning the kitchen and living room lights on. She set her bags on the bed and started to unpack, the Harvard sweater was still safely in her keeping and she set it aside to change into, hoping, like every school girl with her boyfriend's sweatshirt, it would still smell like him. She blushed at the insipid thought, but still didn't put the sweater in her laundry basket or closet with the rest of her clothes. After finally finishing and changing she attempted to wind down, but found herself distracted by thoughts of bright points during the weekend. Robert's thwarted attempts to ward away seagulls with his cane, sweet stolen kisses during their walks along cobblestone pathways... She picked up her phone to call Robert, but decided against it and forced herself, instead, to clean her entire apartment. Space was good for the beginning of a new relationship. She couldn't let a relationship send her into some lackadaisical romantic fit.

* * *

On the other side of town, Gold was fighting with the same struggle. He of course could be checking his list of who needed a visit for rent collection or what shipments would be coming in this week, but all he could think about was Belle and the ocean breeze whipping through her hair, the brightest smile on her lips, picnics that only partially consisted of eating, and a dozen other dazzling moments from the happiest weekend of his entire existence. He shook his head and sat down to mindlessly watch _The Newsroom_, but was interrupted by his phone buzzing. Expecting Belle he frowned when he saw who was actually calling.

"Gold," he answered gruffly.

"Quite menacing for someone who has been tucked away in a seaside love nest for an entire weekend," a jovial voice replied.

"Is there going to be a point to this conversation Jefferson or should I just hang up now?"

Jefferson's boisterous chuckle issued from the speaker of his phone, "Can't I razz you a bit before I cut to the chase?"

Gold remained silent.

Jefferson sighed, "Alright, alright, I need a favor."

Gold's eyebrows rose, "A favor? What would this favor entail?"

"Legal work. I want to get custody of Grace again."

"Ah I see, quite a serious favor to be asking for."

"That's why you're the only man for the job Gold. I need you," Jefferson's joking tone was gone and replaced with an all too serious one Gold was unfamiliar with.

"I'll do it free of charge. Just meet with me tomorrow morning."

Jefferson sighed, "Thank you Robert."

The emotional edge to his voice combined with the use of his first name was too much for Gold, "Don't thank me. Thank Belle. She's made me…" He couldn't find the right word.

"Grow a heart ten sizes bigger?" Jefferson hedged.

"Ha ha, come in the back entrance. I'll leave it unlocked for you." With that he hung up the phone.

He sighed, thinking about Belle and how she had changed him. In ways that he hoped were for the better.

"Oh fuck my pride…" he grumbled and pulled up his messages and typed out a short message. Sentimentality be damned.

* * *

Belle didn't hear her phone beep while she Swiffered her floors, but once she had finally tired herself out enough she climbed into bed and checked her phone for anything new. A grin creeped onto her face when she saw a short message:

_I miss you. Very much. _

She still had the urge to call him, but it was too late and she wanted to get to the library at a reasonable time. She typed out her own and then turned off her light, hoping for some small amount of sleep.

* * *

He was nodding off during a Jeff Daniels monologue when his phone buzzed again. Jerking awake he shook his head and opened the reply:

_I miss your bed…No that's not completely true…I miss your sheets too. _

_In all seriousness, I miss you too. Get some sleep Robert, maybe a certain librarian will visit you during her lunch. _

He smirked at her message and put his phone in his pocket. With a yawn he rose and headed up the stairs to his bedroom a smile plastered to his face.


End file.
